


Butterflies (Phil Lester x Reader)

by Diopside17



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7087594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diopside17/pseuds/Diopside17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have known Dan since secondary school and you have just been introduced to Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Please Stay

**Author's Note:**

> My first fan fic, no hate comments please but constructive criticism is welcome.  
> Thanks!

'Buffy's on tonight!'

Of course this was the voice of Phil Lester, his Northern accent catching eve so slightly over the huskies London undertones. You smiled. You had been friends with Dan since secondary school and although you had lost touch for a while, you decided to meet up again. After school, Dan had dropped out of Law at university and Phil had a Master's Degree in English. Dan had a worrying anime obsession and Phil squeaked every time someone even mentioned Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Dan dressed like Shrek. Phil's wardrobe was a rainbow. You sat down beside the two giants, your small figure emphasised.

_~One Buffy Episode Later~_

'y/n. Y/n, wake up!' Phil's oceanic eyes washed over you. You had fallen asleep on his lap. A high pitched snore from beside you. Bless 'im, Dan's voice still hadn't completely broken yet.

'I better get going,' you said, 'it was lovely of you t-'

'NO0O0oOOo0!'

'Danny Boy?'

'Sorry, bad dream.' He yawned. 'Please don't leave.'

Phil looked so sweet.

Dan was holding your hand.

Damn it. Your head was still on Phil's lap.

You closed your eyes. 'One more episode...'


	2. Damn, Daniel

'Damn, Daniel! Damn, Daniel!'

Dan's ringtone was amazing-you had changed it yourself.   
Yet he had woken up frowning.   
'I'll be back in a minute...' He stood up and left the room. What had happened while you were dreaming?  
Phil looked just as perplexed.   
He was holding onto you and though transfixed by the screen, you could tell he was worried.   
Apart from the occasional involuntary scream from Buffy: silence.   
A clatter down the stairs. You both leapt up and ran towards it.   
Holding hands.   
You found Dan desperately trying, and failing, to swing his dark 'Sherlock' coat around him.   
He was crying, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's really crap but I'm just warming up lol.   
> Thanks for reading!


	3. If Only

Phil was horrified.  
He was trying to stop Dan.  
Yelling.  
Stamping.  
Confused.  
He was tugging Dan's hand for an explanation, the pools of his eyes on the brink of flooding.  
Suddenly, there was a scream; so loud it echoed through the flat and streets.  
Silence.  
'My mum's real sick, Phil. Okay? I'm going to the hospital. God, you obnoxious, little sh*t.'  
He left.  
You guided Phil to the sofa again.  
He was crying harder than Dan, softer than Dan. He was sobbing into you, like he loved you.  
If only.


	4. Confession

Phil was asleep. Why? You tried desperately to recall the events of yesterday. No. This could not be true. Was Dan still gone? You saw Phil's red rimmed sleeping eyes... Quick, check your texts. Nothing. No phone call, voice message, tweet. Stand up. Walk. You had to consciously instruct yourself to live with the truth. Dan was gone. And you'd slept in yesterday's skinny jeans. A grumble. 'Y/n...? Dan. Dan? Dan!' You rushed to him.

'Phil, it's okay. Dan's okay. I'm sure he meant nothing so harsh.'

He heaved his chest like he was trying to lift weights. 'Phil,' you repeated, 'I need to go back to my apartment. I'll be back. I don't want to be alone.' You winced at how lame that sounded, looked him in the eye. He smiled weakly: an acceptance.

Shower. Change. Pack. Leave. Phil's Door. Ring.

Nothing, for a while. You waited patiently before ringing the doorbell again. A thud. A slip. A curse. A wet headed stranger with a white towel around his waist. 'Phil? Wow, you look...' What were you saying‽ Phil was a friend. No. Water drops had formed rivulets down his ceramic shoulder. His fringe had been plastered to his head by a strongly scented strawberry shampoo. Phil looked at you, first confused, then apologetic. You shook your head, apologising yourself. 

Fudge. You were both so damned British, saying sorry for the littlest things, demanding the blame. You entered, looking away, wiping feet on the bristled doormat. You busied yourself making popcorn in the kitchen, choosing a movie to watch as to distract yourself from the fact that Phil was naked in this very apartment. 'Stop it!' You told yourself. You had lived with a brother who was six bloody years older than you. You had shared a bathroom with your sibling for three years for Christ's sake! What made Philip Michael Lester, respectable gentleman, so different? A little voice whined at the back of your head. You knew what made Phil so different.

He listened when you spoke.         He understood when you perioded on him a little while sitting on his lap.                                            He smiled. 

You listens to him when he ranted about lions.                                 You understood when he spilt coffee all of you. 

Goddamn it, you loved him. 

Yet you still had to keep pretended you didn't. 


	5. Movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is moving at a snails' pace, but honestly, the chapters are really short and I couldn't care less. 
> 
> Enjoy x

'Which movie are we watching?'

'I've picked out  _Big Fish_ or  _Thelma and Louise._ It's your choice.' You grinned, knowing which he would choose. 

'I've seen neither;  _Big Fish_ sounds like my cuppa tea, though.' Out with the Northernness again. You pressed play as he helped himself to the microwave popcorn.

 

**_...SIX MOVIES LATER..._ **

'You're staying the night.' It wasn't a question by any means. Phil's face had been sculpted into one of false anger, like that you may see on a toddler. He smiled sweetly, quick as that. 'You've got a sleeping bag? I'm not sleeping in Dan's bed!' You regretted saying that immediately. There was still no word from him. Thankfully, Phil took the remark lightly as he continued: 'Yeah! I'll just fetch it; Dan broke the sofa bed while playing MarioKart on evening, so I thought we'd need one!' 

You had set out the sleeping bag. Well, you had also had a pillow fight and broken a snowglobe, but that was beside the point. You were both sat down on his blue and green bedsheets; you were apologising for the snowglobe again, he was laughing, saying it was nothing. 'Come on,' Phil beamed, 'I want to show you a video of the 'World's Longest Hippo Fart!' You giggled, video after video, hour after hour: cat videos, dog videos, viral videos. You put your head against his head as the rhythmic purrs and lullaby whines slowly lulled you into a sweet, deep sleep. 


	6. Signs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only updating because I hate leaving things unfinished. This part isn't edited. I mainly use my Wattpad account now, it would mean the world to me if you would check out my work there. It's better than this garbage XD. My username is the same as on here: Diopside17.  
> Love y'all x

You were woken by the birdsong outside the window; unusual in this part of London. As you shifted, you felt elongated paper fingers protecting your stomach. Your insides lurched. Phil had fallen asleep with his computer still open on his lap and his arms curved around you. You were sure this could not be intentional as you took this gesture with a shrug. Or at least, you wanted to...  
Could this mean something? Anything? Perhaps this was a sign?  
'Shut up,' you told yourself, 'you sound like a twelve year old.'  
You were so lost on your train of thoughts that you didn't notice Phil yawning beside you.  
'Good morning!' He hugged you tightly as you turned to face him, blatantly aware that you were still both under the duvet. Butterflies erupted where he pressed against your skin, as he started to tickle you.  
'Stop it, Phil!' You laughed manically. You had always hated your laugh with a passion. It sounded as if a pig and a horse had had offspring together and the result was having a strange form of seizure.  
He stopped.  
Lips parted, smiling.  
Slight smirk.  
Could this be what Phil wanted?  
No.  
Phil was perfect, he deserved better than you, with all your flaws.  
You rolled over, away from him.  
One by one, each butterfly he had created in you, died.


End file.
